


The Question Of Everything

by FancyWords (orphan_account)



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-13 04:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FancyWords
Summary: Flug had to know everything, particularly about himself. What was his favorite of everything? He could excuse not knowing math, but how stupid would he look if he didn't know himself?He didn't think the monster he wondered the most about would be the one to answer.





	The Question Of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is a hurt/comfort fic of Flug based on how I'm freaking out over everything today.

Flug had to know everything, particularly about himself. What was his favorite animal? Color? Song? He couldn't be caught off guard. He can excuse not knowing how to fix a machine, but how stupid would he look if he didn't even know himself?

The worst times were when he felt like questioning the universe about a question he couldn't think of. It made no sense. There was a ball of hell in his brain, and he had no idea why.

Soon Flug was questioning his existence, job, friendships, emotions, and his favorite animal. It was always the human, but he had to check. He had to check if he still believed in villainy or wearing a paper bag. He questioned if he should still be alive, but he could never find a sound reason to be or not to be.

To end the war of his thoughts, Flug grabbed a piece of paper and pencil. He in the lab like any other day. It wasn't another day, though. This always happened. He just thought about his favorite animal. Then it was everything. Then it was his favorite animal again. Still the human.

'Questions' was the heading. Flug shifted in his chair and tapped his pencil. He didn't like his first question, but it was a question.

'What is my sexuality?'

Flug doodled on the side of his paper. He couldn't even trace his train of thought between questioning his favorite animal and being drenched in anguish. It was something about the human race. Ah, yes.

'Should I feel bad or care about someone's death even if I am close to them?'

A packed question. Flug could feel society screaming yes, but his heart roared _no_.

'What happens when humans know everything?'

'Should humans keep exploring the universe?'

'Are superhero movies lame?'

That was it. Flug was wondering about his favorite animal. The human, still. He started thinking about the human race and how most people strive for happiness, but the movies are so violent. Most movies have superheroes. Flug started thinking about how depressing and stressful it would be to be a superhero. He thought about if he would be willing to risk his life for anything at all, and no matter what thing anything was, Flug leaned towards no, but didn't have the guts to stay. Whatever. Life is incomplete without pain.

Flug crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it away. He didn't care anymore.

-

_If you try hard enough, you can do anything_. Flug finds this phrase disgusting, but he does follow it very loosely. It's painful having to question who he is, but the relief is unparalleled. Does he have the right job? Yes, yes he does. Now he is avoiding years of unhappiness. Not that he would be able to leave the job, but there is always a possibility of improving a situation.

Flug was trying really hard, but he couldn't find an answer. His fingers itched to feel the texture of Black Hat's skin, but his stomach flipped at the thought of kissing any one else.

The cold trail leading up his back felt like little burns sinking through his blood and muscle.

Flug waited for words, but there was no noise. His heart pumped rapidly at the thought of it not actually being Black Hat. Flug spun around in his chair.

Black Hat glared at him with light annoyance. His hands lifted to Flug's shoulders and began to massage the frozen tendons.

"You're heart beat is too loud." Black Hat complained.

What the fuck does that mean? Flug evened his breathing and kept looking at Black Hat's eyes, but Black Hat was looking downwards. Flug's eyes followed his gaze.

His pants had a small tent around the groin. It was small enough to passed off as the position of his pants, but it began to grow under Black Hat's gaze.

Black Hat smiled and looked very pleased with himself. His hands trailed down with pointed fingers. He grasped the waistband of Flug's pants along with his boxers and pulled down.

This was it. Flug wanted this, and he had to face the facts. This was what he wanted.

A single hand reached down to his length. It was like a piece of space was groping him. Something rare and mysterious and constantly being explored. The hand didn't feel rough or smooth or hot or cold. Every touch felt ghostly but suffocating.

Black Hat moved his hand up and down Flug's shaft with precise speed and movement.

Flug grasped the edges of his chair and looked down at the alien form of his boss. The white eyes of the one below him looked up and flashed a sickly green smile.

Warmth and pleasure grew as Flug's sensitive appendage was stroked. His hand reached out and grasped Black Hat's shoulder.

Flug huffed and groaned before whimpering out a breathless "I'm coming."

Black Hat opened his mouth and let his long tongue loll out. Flug jerked and painted Black Hat's tongue white.

Black Hat slapped Flug's hand away and got up. He swallowed and stepped away to leave the lab.

Flug slumped against his chair. He had more questions than answers, but he was fully satisfied with what he did learn. He was right.


End file.
